


After all this time ...

by FenHarelsPride (Andauril)



Series: Siryn Lavellan - Non Canon / AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Last Unicorn Inspired, Late Happy Ending, Solas returns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andauril/pseuds/FenHarelsPride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Personal matters”, the human repeated, his brow creasing. “I hear this excuse thrice a day, messere. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to disturb her, unless you have something more convincing to offer.”</p><p>“I understand. But may I ask you to deliver her a message?”</p><p>The human eyed him, lips pursed slightly in annoyance, and finally nodded. “What’s this message?”</p><p>“Tell the Inquisitor that Pride has returned.”</p><p>***<br/>After 30 years, Fen'Harel returns to Skyhold - to finally confess the truth to Lavellan, and to prepare her for the change that is about to happen ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	After all this time ...

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic is slightly inspired by "The Last Unicorn" (I blame limpstella from tumblr, she draw a comic). There are some lines of dialogue exchanged between Lavellan and Solas which deliberatly mirror the exchange between the Unicorn and Molly. If you know the movie, you will know which one of them.

Skyhold had not changed since he had left. The Inquisition remained, stronger than ever as he had heard. He had heart rumors, had witnessed their achievements from afar while remaining at a safe distance.

The gates were well guarded, but it was of no difficulty for Fen’Harel to blend in with a bunch of pilgrims and slip in unnoticed. No one paid him much notice, only side-glances, but no one seemed to recognize him. While he traversed the courtyard, he could not detect any familiar faces. A number of young recruits trained under close observation behind the tavern, the drill instructor yelled at them breathlessly. About half of them were elves, he noticed.

Fen’Harel moved at a measured pace, but with determination. He climbed the stairs to the Main Hall, slipping in behind two pilgrims. It was a pleasant surprise that the doors were open, which meant – if he was not mistaken – that there are no audiences held at the moment.

He passed the rotunda, striding towards the door to her quarters. He had almost reached them when someone finally noticed him …

“Messere? I’m sorry, but that are the Inquisitor’s chambers you’re heading to.”

He could have fade-stepped through the doors with the same effort that it took him to breath, but instead, he turned around. A middle aged man – human – stood before him, noticeably frowning. His vest bore the insignia of a steward.

“I know. I was looking for the Inquisitor.”

“Everybody wants something from her. The Inquisitor is a very busy woman. What makes your request so much more important than those of everybody else?”

“Ah, but I am not here to make a request. I have … personal matters to discuss with the Inquisitor.”

“Personal matters”, the human repeated, his brow creasing. “I hear this excuse thrice a day, messere. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to disturb her, unless you have something more convincing to offer.”

“I understand. But may I ask you to deliver her a message?”

The human eyed him, lips pursed slightly in annoyance, and finally nodded. “What’s this message?”

“Tell the Inquisitor that Pride has returned.”

 

It took half the day until Fen’Harel finally received answer. He was walking the battlement when the human steward approached him.

The _shemlen_ seemed noticeably surprised.

“Messere …”

“Yes?” Fen’Harel waited patiently for the mortal to continue. He believed to already know why the steward had sought him out.

“The Inquisitor has asked to meet you. At once.” The steward shook his head, seemingly disbelieving. “You’ll find her in her quarters.”

Fen’Harel gave the human a curt nod. “Thank you. I should not have her waiting.”

 

Fen’Harel ascended the stairs to her quarters with an almost sense of anticipation. To stay away from her had been one of the hardest things he had ever undertaken. At some days, the urge to return had been almost overbearing. But now, where he was only one step away from finally fulfilling his goal, he could risk meeting her again. It would contradict his plans. The last task was fairly simple, and almost impossible to foil.

He had decided that she, of all people, deserved to know what was to come. He rather would her have to learn it through him than throwing her into it without preparation.

He was ready for her anger, for her blame, for her hate, for everything she would throw at him. He had left her behind with a promise that must have sounded hollow in her ears. The hurt look in her eyes when he turned away at the glen at haunted him ever since.

Fen’Harel found the door to her quarters ajar and entered, making sure that she heeded his steps.

He saw her almost immediately. She sat at her desk, her face turned away from him. Her shoulders stiffened at his approach. She wore her hear shorter now, he noticed. Now, it only reached down to her shoulders.

“Inquisitor …?”

Siryn rose from her chair, turning around slowly.

“Solas …” she said. Her voice sounded slightly different from how he remembered it, but it was unmistakably hers, only a little hoarser. “I thought you’d never return. Where have you been? Where have you been, Solas? Damn you, where have you been?”

“I am here now.”

“And where have you been thirty years ago? Twenty years ago? Where have you been when I was still young? When I was … the young woman you left behind in that glen?” Her eyes squeezed, filled to the brim with tears. “How dare you come now, when I am … _this._ ”

It had never been apparent when he had been with her. And even now, thirty years later, she still was beautiful. Her skin was not as smooth as he remembered it, fine lines of wrinkles creasing the soft skin of the outer corner of her eyes. Her hair had turned silver at her temples, covering the long uneven scar at the side of her face.

“I am sorry. I would have returned sooner, _vhenan_ , if I had had the choice.”

“Why now?” She whispered.

“I owe you the truth.”

“You do! After all, you showed up here … still at the apex of your years … But then, I should expect it from an _elvhen._ ” She waved over to her bed, signaling him to sit down. “I’m listening, Solas.”

Fen’Harel hesitated, but only for a moment until he heeded her command. Siryn’s eyes followed him over, and he noticed how her hands clenched into fists. She did not join him, instead she decided to stand. She carried herself now with subtle pride, he noticed, an authority that spoke out of every of her movements. She was no longer Siryn the First – she was Siryn the Keeper, despite the lack of her _vallaslin_ and her functional mono-colored clothing.

“I have not been honest with you, Siryn. All the time I spent with the Inquisition, I hid my true identity from you – as well as my involvement in the events, and my true goals. I joined the Inquisition to correct the mistakes I had made in the past.”

“That you aren’t what you claimed to be is pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“That I am _elvhen_ is only a small part of the truth.” He sighed. “I once told you that the upper class of Elvhenan enslaved their own people, branding them with _vallaslin_ in honor of their gods. I witnessed firsthand the cruelty and corruption of my homeland, and I aimed to put an end to it. It was not a decision made lightly, but in the end I was left only with the choice to lock the pantheon away or doom my people to a life of eternal slavery.”

Siryn stood there, completely silent for a moment, staring. “You are Fen’Harel?”

“That is what our people once called me, yes.”

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly with a sharp huff. He noticed a small hint of fear in her eyes, the flicker of dread, but contained. She was too stubborn to let it overwhelm her.

“Were you ever honest with me?” Her voice displayed a slight crack.

“I lied about my identity, and I hid my goals from you, but everything else, everything else I told and showed you was true. What we had was _real_.”

“I believe you.” She shook her head. “Maybe because it sounds completely mad. But I believe you. I … looked for you. I learned to walk the Fade like you do, with a little help from the Anchor. I know that my people’s knowledge of the past is incomplete at best.” She squared her shoulders. “But your other name is likely not all what you want to tell me, isn’t it?”

“No. Siryn, to withhold the others, I created a barrier strong enough to separate them from this realm forever. To achieve this, I had to strengthen the separation of the waking world and the Fade.”

“The Veil.”

Fen’Harel nodded curtly. “Yes. But by creation the Veil, I also stripped the people of the most of their magic and their immortality. I did not learn it until after I awoke from uthenera. The loss of their immortality and magic was gradual process which left the elves that were born before the creation of the Veil unaffected, but it manifested itself in the generations born thereafter. Once I learned of my mistake, I sought to correct it. But my long slumber had left me weak, and I found myself unable to unlock the power of my orb myself.”

“You!? You are responsible for the Breach, for Corypheus’ rise to power, for this …?” She waved her left hand, and the Anchor etched into her palm flared brightly.

“I miscalculated. Corypheus proved to be stronger than I had anticipated. I thought he had died accessing the orb.” Fen’Harel frowned. “In the past thirty years, I have pursued my goal of restoring the People to what they once have been. This world is a perversion, _vhenan_. Spirits, corrupted by the slightest exposure to this realm because they have forgotten how to be a part of it. Our people, slowly dying – so much is lost with this short lives, unable to embrace their true nature. They forget more and more with each new generation.”

Siryn’s eyes widened. Over her face spread the light of understanding. “You want to tear down the Veil.”

“I will. I came back to prepare you. You, of all people, deserve to know what is about to happen.”

“About to …” She stepped towards him, shock etched into the creases of her face. “When? When is this supposed to happen?”

Fen’Harel rose from her bed. “It is already happening, while we speak. I am sorry if …”

“Shut up!” She cut him off. “If what? If I hate the idea of my people being _people_ again? If you truly think so, you don’t know me half as well as you think! I have been trying to give them a future for thirty years!” Her tone of voice grew sharper, louder, with every word, until she almost yelled. “I am furious! You have done something … wonderful for our people, but you never bothered to ask me! I could have helped you! We could have achieved this _together_ , Solas! But no! You are the Great Wolf, you hunt alone, you can’t accept help from anyone, you doom yourself to solitude and you _wonder_ why you fear to die alone!?”

“The reason I begged you not to drink from the Well … I did not want to see you enslaved to the whim of a so-called god. Your freedom will always be more important than my own desires. I could not ask this from you, Siryn!”

He had inflicted his loneliness upon himself. The fate he feared the most, he feared it because he had chosen it for himself. His course had set him away from his people, and it was a path he had accepted willingly.

How could he despise the actions of his kin if he was, at the same time, perfectly willing to commit them himself? He could never, not even for her, betray his own beliefs.

“It’s not freedom if you take my choice from me”, she answered sharply, eyes narrowing. “I would’ve helped you out of my own free will. Never doubt that I would! And I would’ve gladly endured any hardship if it just had helped my people. You should’ve known that!”

“I know. _Ir abelas, vhenan._ ” He took a step towards her, and she didn’t back away, instead squaring her shoulders, chin lifted in defiance. “What happens to me know if for you to decide. I pledge myself to your judgement, and your judgement alone.”

She stared at him. A thousand emotions ran riot behind her violet eyes – he witnessed anger, hurt, hope, fear, joy, insecurity, all at once and waging war against each other. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, shaking slightly at her side, her posture tense, apprehensive.

“I thought I had move on, Solas … Fen’Harel.” She shook her head. “But nothing’s changed for me. The moment you showed up here … I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.” She hesitated, running fingers through her silver streaked hair, sighing. “I want to be home again. I want to help you rebuild a home for our people, now that we’ll have our magic and immortality back. Do you accept it?”

“It will become dangerous, Siryn.”

“I’ve been in danger since I walked out of the Fade thirty years ago.”

Fen’Harel suppressed a sigh. If this was her decision, he would accept it. He would have to wait and see how powerful she would become once the Veil was brought down in full. He had restored the world to what it once had been, and once, he had promised her … in another world.

If she wanted it to be this one …

“I accept”, he answered finally.

He had been without his heart for too long.


End file.
